Bound To My Mafia Husband

Chapter Seven The Rules

The mansion didn’t forgive mistakes. That much became immediately clear the morning I found myself summoned to the main hall. The air was taut, almost electric, and every servant I passed seemed to shrink away, knowing the eyes watching me were not forgiving.

Luca stood at the center of the hall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Behind him, Dom and the rest of the inner circle were lined up like soldiers, their stares assessing me, weighing me, judging me before a single word was spoken.

“You’re here,” Luca said quietly, but it carried through the hall like a command.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice steady despite the flutter in my chest.

“Do you understand what this is?” He gestured to the circle behind him. “This is the family. The inner circle. Those who run this empire. Those who decide what lives and what dies. You will interact with them. You will learn them. And you will respect the rules. Or there will be consequences.”

I swallowed hard. “I understand.”

He nodded once, sharp, and motioned for me to follow.

Dom approached first, leaning casually against the wall. His smirk was infuriating. “Let’s see how well you survive here,” he said. “Rules are simple. Do not overstep. Do not speak out of turn. Do not assume loyalty where it isn’t earned.”

“And what happens if I do?” I asked, lifting my chin.

“You learn the hard way,” he said simply, eyes glinting. “And you’ll thank me for it later.”

I didn’t flinch, though my stomach tightened. “I learn fast.”

He laughed, a low sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ll see.”

The first rule I learned — and quickly — was that appearances were everything. Every glance, every movement, every word mattered. Walking into the dining room, I realized just how closely I was observed. The inner circle sat strategically, monitoring not just the staff, but each other, and me.

Sitting at the table was a test in itself. I had to maintain composure, answer questions without giving away information, and display enough poise to suggest confidence without arrogance. I quickly discovered that silence was as powerful as speech — sometimes more so.

⸻

The second rule became painfully clear during a meeting with Sofia, one of Luca’s trusted advisors.

“You’re new,” she said, voice soft but cutting. “And you don’t belong here yet. But you will learn quickly that our world doesn’t forgive mistakes. Not ignorance, not defiance, not hesitation. You will watch, you will listen, and you will adapt. Otherwise…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but the implication was clear enough.

“I understand,” I said, my throat tight.

“Good.” She studied me, eyes sharp, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like approval flicker. “You may have more potential than I expected. But potential alone doesn’t save lives.”

I nodded, the weight of her words sinking deep into me.

The third rule, perhaps the most brutal, was learning who held power beyond Luca. The inner circle wasn’t just enforcers or advisors; they were arbiters, judges, and sometimes executioners. One misstep — a poorly chosen word, a misinterpreted glance — could trigger consequences I wasn’t ready to face.

Rocco was the first to demonstrate this.

I had wandered into the library, seeking a quiet corner to think, when I saw him reviewing documents. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice low but sharp.

“I was looking for a book,” I said quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Curiosity can be dangerous.”

“I understand,” I replied, keeping my tone steady.

“Good,” he said. And then, as he turned back to his papers, he added quietly, almost under his breath, “Keep that in mind.”

I left, my heart pounding, realizing that even the smallest act — a misplaced step, a wandering glance — could be a test. And tests here were never without consequences.

⸻

That evening, Luca called me to his office. The city skyline stretched below us, indifferent and beautiful, and for a moment, I allowed myself to breathe.

“You’ve learned something today,” he said quietly. “About rules, hierarchy, and the cost of ignorance.”

“I have,” I admitted.

“And do you understand why they exist?”

“Yes,” I said. “To survive.”

He stepped closer, and the air between us grew heavy. “Not just to survive, Elena. To thrive. To endure. To bend without breaking. That is how this family operates. That is how you operate. You are not just collateral. You are… important. Remember that.”

I nodded, swallowing the strange heat that rose in my chest. His words were dangerous, tempting, and I hated that they affected me.

“You’ll have another test soon,” he added, voice low. “Consider this preparation.”

Later that night, alone in my quarters, I tried to piece together everything I had learned. The rules were strict, the consequences severe, and the inner circle relentless.

And yet… despite the fear, despite the danger, there was an undeniable thrill.

I hated Luca. And I feared him. And I was inexplicably drawn to him.

The mansion was more than a home. It was a battlefield, a chessboard, and I was a pawn — for now.

But pawns could learn. Pawns could survive. And pawns could, if careful, become more.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, knowing that tomorrow would bring new lessons, new challenges, and new ways to test my loyalty.

Because in Luca Giordano’s world, the only certainty was that nothing was certain.

And I wasn’t about to fail.